


Sirius Black Knows a Lot About That

by freyja_luna



Series: Padfoot and Prongs: An Anthology [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Parent Orion Black, Bad Parent Walburga Black, Bad Parenting, Family Issues, Friendship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Male Friendship, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), POV Sirius Black, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyja_luna/pseuds/freyja_luna
Summary: James and Sirius have a heart-to-heart about Sirius's family issues before the Christmas holidays.
Relationships: Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Series: Padfoot and Prongs: An Anthology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190093
Kudos: 9





	Sirius Black Knows a Lot About That

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot I decided to write about James and Sirius.
> 
> Content Warning: Mentions of child abuse and shitty parenting.

The stone of the outer castle wall leaked its coldness through the back of my robes as I leant against it. Serves me right for going outside in the middle of December. But there wasn’t anything for it. I couldn’t very well smoke a cigarette inside, could I? 

I heard the crunch of footsteps on the frozen ground moments before he appeared. “Wormtail told me you went out for a smoke.”

“Probably dying to know when I’ll be back to entertain him,” I said. 

James grinned. “That sounds like Wormtail. Lend me one, will you?”

“What am I, a bloody charity?” I said, shoving him in the shoulder. “Get your own.” I handed him a cigarette from my pack. 

“Cheers,” James said with an amical grin. 

I laughed. “What’re you looking at me for? Going to ask for my wand to light it too, Prongs?”

He snorted gracelessly. “Hardly, Padfoot.”

We smoked in silence, the night wind biting my cheeks and blowing hair into my face. 

James turned his focus from his cigarette to me. “Out with it, Padfoot.”

“Out with what?” I hedged. 

“Is it Regulus? Your parents? Come on, don’t think I don’t know.”

I sighed, though it was accompanied by a twist of the lips. “Bloody Prongs, knowing me too well.”

James shoved me on the shoulder. “That’s my job. Who else would be better at it than me?”

We laughed. “We’ve been through a lot, yeah?” I said. 

James grinned before it slipped from his face. “Seriously, Padfoot. And don’t you fucking dare say ‘siriusly,’ because that stopped being funny in third year.”

I snickered and took a last drag before I spoke. “Just my parents again.” I turned to look him in the eye. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with them, Prongs. I don’t even know if I can stomach going back home for Christmas this year.” 

He messed up his hair in the back, a gimmick he’d turned into a habit. “Is it Regulus?”

I shook my head and looked away. “No. I’d be fine if they only compared me to him, but I don’t think I can take much more of the yelling, the insults, the broken dishes.”

“How many did they break last summer?” 

“I lost count. So many. I didn’t repair them of course, because they can kiss my pale arse.”

James burst out laughing, which made me laugh too. I really was the palest of us. Bloody Black family complexion. He cleared his throat. “Was it only the dishes?”

“No. I can handle the throwing, but then _Father Dearest_ accidentally used magic on the chandelier.”

“The crystal one?”

“Yeah.”

He made a bitter sound in the back of his throat. “Bloody hell, Padfoot. That wasn’t an accident. Did any of the shards hit you?”

I shrugged and took a drag. “My reflexes are too good. And I think… maybe it was Regulus yelling at him to stop? Or _Mother Dearest_? Reckon I blocked most of it from my memory.” 

James was rubbing his eyes like he’d gotten ash from his cigarette in them. “Fuck.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes harder. “There’s no… You can’t… It’s not an accident, Padfoot,” he finished. 

It was a long time before I had gathered my thoughts enough to answer. “I know. Of course I know that. But they’re my own parents and some part of me sees that, and… I dunno… wants to make excuses for them.”

“But you hate them.”

“That’s not the point, Prongs! It’s not that simple. Part of me will always feel this bloody need to think of them as my parents, even though I consciously stopped seeing them that way years ago, when you first met me.”

James flinched at my tone. He stared at me while I had a moody hit from the cigarette, and then started rubbing his eyes harder. “I’m sorry, I just don’t… I just don’t get it. But then I wouldn’t, would I? Mine couldn’t be farther from yours.” 

I looked at him with a tiny smile. “Sorry for being an arse.” He shrugged and I continued. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand since my family isn’t a flaming pile of shit,” he said and we both laughed, though his was a broken one. “Come over to my place at least for half of the holidays?”

I grinned and clapped him on the back in response. We’d long since tossed away the cigarette butts, but I wasn’t yet in the mood to return to the Common Room, so we stayed outside. 

“If you need to, anytime, whenever you can’t stand it any longer, you know you can come to my place, right?” he said, finally done with the furious eye-rubbing. 

“I know. You might regret that, though. What if I never leave you alone?”

“Regret?” James laughed. “Never.”

“And what happens when your mum runs out of food? Or catches me smoking inside? Or, say we practice quidditch like in the summer, and instead of getting stuck in the tree, I crash through that hideous stained-glass window on the upstairs floor?”

He was slapping his leg and in hysterics. “Then I’ll eat my broomstick because there’s no way you’d ever be that terrible of a flyer.”

“Wait, no, Prongs. What if I start a fire with the-”

“Bloody hell, Padfoot!” he cut in. I fell silent as he looked at me. Then, in the quietest voice, he said, “Stop looking for reasons that would make them treat you like your parents.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that for a long time, so I let him continue. 

“Your parents aren’t the rule, they’re the exception. And it’s never, ever your fault for how they treated and still treat you. I just… I don’t know _how_ to convince you-”

“You don’t have to do anything, Prongs.”

“Well, that’s not the sodding point of being best mates with someone, is it?” He looked at me defiantly. “It’s my job, Padfoot.”

I dug into the ground with the heel of my shoe. “I can take care of myself. I’m not your baggage to lug around.”

“For fuck’s sake, Padfoot!” He resumed the eye-rubbing and his voice cracked when he spoke again. “You won’t ever have to ask for my help. That’s not the… The point is… Fuck!” he said and laughed bitterly. “When have I ever been at a loss for words?”

“Around Evans?” I said with a cheeky smile. 

“You and Evans. You’re a pair of proud, stubborn hippogriffs, and you drive me mad sometimes. Both of you.”

“You sure you want to have me for the holidays, then?”

James sighed and ruffled my hair. “Yes, I do, Padfoot. Mum and Dad will be ecstatic that you’re coming over, even if you break that hideous window upstairs by flying through it.”

I tidied my long hair from where he’d mussed it. “Alright, Prongs. You win.”

“Come off it, that wasn’t a win.”

“Why not?”

“Because all I had to do was nudge you in the right direction. Oh, and get your head out of your arse.”

I laughed and he joined in, but I still had something left to say when we’d finished laughing. “I’d be in a terrible state without you, Moony, and Wormtail. I reckon my parents might’ve driven me mad myself if I hadn’t had you and Hogwarts.” I looked at him and my tone was earnest. “You know I’d never lie about that, yeah?”

He grinned, pushed up his glasses, and nodded. “I know. I reckon we’d all be buggered without the Marauders.”

“Especially Wormtail. Oh, and Moony, the poor sod.”

“Especially you, Padfoot,” he said quietly. 

I smiled. “I know, Prongs. Without the Marauders, I wouldn’t even be Padfoot, and that seems like an awful waste to me.”

James took a step towards me and he gripped me in a fierce hug. When we broke apart, he got me in a headlock and I even managed to ruffle his hair, which Wormtail was too short to ever do. At least for now, as we ran back to the warmth of the castle, my black mood had dissipated like ink droplets added to water. Armed with the offer of sanctuary at his house, perhaps I could face this Christmas holiday and come out unscathed, even if I knew that it was likely the last time I’d return to my parents’ house.


End file.
